The Queen's Price

FORTY-EIGHT

“Lady Morghann and Lord Khardeen are here to see you,” the housekeeper announced.

Wilhelmina set aside the book she’d been trying to read. “Show them in.”

She smoothed down her dress and straightened her shawl. The Queen of Scelt and the Warlord of Maghre had been kind in a cool sort of way. They had invited her to join them for an evening meal a couple of times since she’d arrived in Maghre, but they were grieving. Everyone in Maghre was grieving the loss of the Queen of Ebon Askavi, but no one mentioned the Queen by name or what she’d done to save the Blood in the Shadow Realm. Not in Wilhelmina’s hearing. Not after the first few days.

“You’re staying in Lady Angelline’s house? Were you friends, then?”

“Never put on airs like some aristo Ladies who think they’re too important to be courteous to farmers and shopkeepers. Interested in village life, she was.”

“Such a lovely voice she had. Lady Angelline and Lady Morghann would sing a song or two at a harvest dance, and it was a delight to hear them.”

Everyone in the village knew she was staying at Jaenelle’s house. Everyone had a story to tell about the Black Widow Queen who had saved a young witch from madness—who, as a Healer, had saved a boy’s leg after it had been crushed by a wagon. They told Wilhelmina about dances and horse races and the rainbow slides the Lady had made out of Craft and air for the village children. And they all had thoughts about the school Jaenelle had created for kindred Scelties.

Jaenelle lived in that house for only a few days every season, but the remembrance of her filled the village with stories that matched the sister Wilhelmina had expected to find. These people didn’t know; they hadn’t seen the truth beneath the human skin.

If they had seen Witch’s true Self, would they have felt as horrified as she’d felt? Or would these people have nodded and said how it made sense that all the kindred had loved the Lady so much?

Then came the awful day when she’d let something slip after another story about the Lady, something that made the villagers understand that not only was there a family connection between her and Jaenelle Angelline, but also that she held some kind of grudge against the Lady. Everyone in the village cooled toward her after that, leaving her feeling more and more isolated.

Now Morghann and Khardeen had come to call.

She knew the moment she saw Morghann’s face that something had happened. Something big.

“We just received word from Uncle Saetan.” Morghann smiled brilliantly as tears ran down her face. “Jaenelle survived. The kindred managed to save her. She’s alive!”

Wilhelmina stared at them. “How . . . ?”

“We don’t know more than that, except that she’s healing in a secret place,” Khardeen said. “It could be weeks, even months, before she’s able to come home. But she will be coming home.”

“Home?” Wilhelmina felt a sharp chill beneath her skin. “Meaning here?”

“I expect she’ll be at the Hall most of the time,” Morghann replied. “But yes, we’re hoping she’ll be returning here as well.”

“Then I’d better start looking for another place to live.” She clutched the shawl.

They didn’t contradict her and tell her she could stay.

“I can ask around for other cottages to let,” Khardeen offered.

She shook her head. “Not here. Not in Maghre if Jaenelle is going to live here.” Her breath came out in a pained sound. “You think I’m cruel or cold or uncaring. The truth? I’m just not strong enough or brave enough to live in the same village as Jaenelle, where I’ll keep hearing how wonderful she is without anyone admitting that she can be terrible and terrifying as well. I can’t pretend she’s the sister I remembered, not after she broke our grandmother. Not after . . .” She choked on a sob.

Silence. Morghann and Khardeen knew why Witch had broken Alexandra Angelline—and they clearly approved.

Finally, Khardeen said, “Tuathal is the capital of Scelt. We stay there on occasion because Morghann is the Territory Queen and her family has a house there. But Jaenelle didn’t spend time there except on an annual official visit. Maghre was her place in Scelt. If you resided in Tuathal, I doubt there would be anyone there who would connect Wilhelmina Benedict with Jaenelle Angelline. If that’s what you want.”

“Yes. That’s what I want.”

“I think you moving to Tuathal is for the best,” Morghann said. “I don’t think the men in Jaenelle’s family will react well to anyone who causes her distress, so it would be safer for you if you were . . . away . . . from Maghre.”

“Once you figure out how much you can afford, I’ll send our man of business up to Tuathal to make inquiries,” Khardeen said.

She told them her quarterly income and saw their eyes widen. So. The High Lord had been more generous than she’d realized.

“It will take him a few days, but he’ll bring back a list of possibilities,” Khardeen said.

Wilhelmina thanked them, then waited for them to leave before she sank back into her chair.

Restless days. Sleepless nights while she wrestled with a single question: go back to Chaillot, where the Angelline family might still be alive but with the family name and honor in ruins, or stay here in Scelt and move to a city where no one would know Wilhelmina Benedict—where she wouldn’t have to carry the burden of being related to Jaenelle Angelline?

A fresh start, then. She’d be nothing more than one of the Blood who had fled from Terreille in order to build a new life in Kaeleer. Her name would mean nothing to anyone, and that’s the way she wanted it to be. Needed it to be.

After reviewing the possible residences she could lease and discussing the neighborhoods with Khardeen and Morghann—and what her potential neighbors might know about aristo families beyond Scelt—Wilhelmina chose a house in a section of Tuathal that catered to minor aristos who worked at some kind of trade or had professions. Not the kind of individuals who would serve in the top circles of courts. She didn’t have a trade or profession, but she could afford to take the time to decide what she’d like to do.

What she hadn’t expected was Andrew’s decision not to come with her. A former stable lad at the Angelline estate, he’d helped her when she’d run away from Robert Benedict’s attentions. He’d helped her hide from her family, taking care of all the practical things she didn’t know how to do. And he’d accompanied her to Kaeleer. But now . . .

“I want to work with horses, and these horses are beyond anything I could have imagined when we were in Chaillot,” Andrew said. Then he added, “Dark Dancer had come close to the kindred horses. Jaenelle recognized that in him.”

“We could buy a couple of horses when we get to Tuathal.”

“They wouldn’t be kindred,” he replied gently, as if he already knew none of the kindred would want to be around her. “I . . . We helped each other for a lot of years, but I think this is where we take different paths. I’m staying here, working for Lord Khardeen. You’ll go to Tuathal and make a new life for yourself.”

“Jaenelle survived. Did Khardeen tell you that? She survived, and she’ll be coming back here to live.”

“And I will be glad to see her.” Andrew picked up a bucket that held grooming brushes.

“She broke Alexandra. Doesn’t that matter to you?”

“It was time someone did.” The black patch that covered the lost eye seemed to make the anger in Andrew’s remaining eye sharper and colder. “Maybe Alexandra was a good Queen when she first began ruling Chaillot. But she wasn’t a good Queen or a good grandmother the last time she sent Jaenelle to Briarwood. Have you forgotten why Jaenelle ended up in Briarwood that night? She was trying to protect you. And some of us did everything we could to help Daemon Sadi protect her. But we couldn’t do enough. So don’t ask me to feel sorry for Alexandra. Since the High Lord and the Dark Court let her live, I have to figure breaking her was what she deserved.”

She’d thought of Andrew as a friend all these years. “Would you go back to Chaillot if you could?”

“Never. I’m making a home here, and I plan to stay.” He made the effort to put aside his anger. “Probably best if we part now while we can still be friends. I think you’ll always resent Jaenelle for breaking Alexandra—and you’ll come to resent me because I will never feel that way.”

She wasn’t sure he was wrong, so she said nothing. Just walked out of the stables. Walked back to Jaenelle’s house.

Walked away from the last connection to her old life.